Angel or Phantom?
by WickedK24601
Summary: My take on the musical/movie. What if Christine didn't love Raoul? Will the story change? Will she end up with Erik? Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**PLEASE READ! **

**So this is my take on the Phantom of the Opera. It will feature E/C heavily and very little Raoul. So you have been warned. Now the most important point. My phantom is very different from that of the musical/movie/book. For starters he is only a little older than Christine. His personality will be very different. You will see this right from the beginning, so if you don't like the idea, just don't read it.**

**I am going mostly off the movie and musical and will stay close to the canon, but with some changes in what causes these events to happen.**

**I will probably use most of the songs if not all of them. **

**All right, you have been warned about this story and remember, keep your hand at the level of your eyes.! ****(')_'**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Opera Populaire. Firmin and Andre do. Haha just kidding, we all know who the real owner is.**

**Also this all belongs to Gaston Leroux and ALW.**

* * *

He watched duly. The rehearsal had been going well, but Carlotta was still a talentless diva, nothing would ever change that. Not that he paid much attention to her. His sights were set upon the one of the chorus girls. His finely tuned ears listened for her angelic voice as she moved flowingly through the stage. His thoughts were only interrupted when the new owners stepped in, interrupting the rehearsal. They talked a little, then grovel for Carlotta to sing for them. He sighed. When were people going to understand that she was a tone-def?

He smiled, thinking of a plan to make her go away for a nice long while. He grabbed a letter he had written upon acquiring the information that the opera had new owners, and let it drop, unnoticed. Then he pulled out his knife, grabbed the rope that dropped one of the sets and cut it.

The backdrop fell, safely away from all the actors, but close enough to give them a scare. He chuckled as he watch Carlotta jump and Meg Giry run through across the stage, screaming about The Phantom of the Opera. After a few seconds of screaming and agitated ness, they all looked up, by which time he was safely gone into one of his many secret passages.

* * *

She looked up instantly after the backdrop fell, seeing just the flourish of a cape before its wearer exited. Christine tried hard not to smile. He always had a twisted sense of humour and Carlotta was not his favorite person, but the way he seemed to perpetuate the rumours of the existence of "The Phantom of the Opera" was down right laughable. Ever since he had revealed himself, mask and all, she had found a strong sense of comfort in him. His angelic voice, the gentle power that emanated from his strange, stormy grey eyes, was almost entrancing. But then she remembered those moments, those few occasions when something would displease him and a shadow would roll over him, his features changing, distorting into the face of evil, the face of a Phantom. But within moments, after a few deep breathes, her angel would return, smiling apologetically and they would go to the lesson.

"Christine Daae could sing it sir"

Megs mention of her name brought her into the present world. She looked around realizing the Carlotta and Piangi were both gone and the new owners had a very worried look on their face.

"The chorus girl?" Firmin asked, laughing.

Meg pushed her forward.

"She's been taking lessons from a great teacher."

Christine looked at her friend angrily. She had told her that in great confidence and did not enjoy Meg telling the entire cast.

"And who might that be?"

Christine paused, unsure of how to answer."I...I don't know Monsieur."

Both rolled their eyes in unison, but Madam Giry interceded.

"Let her sing for you. She has been well taught."

"I don't think I..." but the piano was already playing the intro and Meg pushed her forcefully forward yet again.

She began nervously.

_Think of me_  
_think of me fondly,_  
_when we've said goodbye_

_Remember me  
once in a while -  
please promise me  
you'll try._

She stuttered slightly and tripped over the words. Then she closed her eyes, thinking of him.

"Deep breath and just let the air out" he heard him say.

_When you find_  
_that, once_  
_again, you long_  
_to take your heart back_  
_and be free -_  
_if you_  
_ever find_  
_a moment,_  
_spare a thought_  
_for me!_

She finished the song, opening her eyes. They all looked at her in awe. Madam Giry being the first to speak.

"I think you just found a new leading soprano."

"Yes quite so. Please continue with your rehearsal." Firmin said and he and Andre left.

* * *

He closed his eyes, simply listening to his angel's voice singing the intricate melody. He had worked her on this particular song and as beautiful as she sounded during their time together it was nothing compared to when she was in front of thousands of people who had paid to see her. She seemed to take their energy and sing back to them in her bewitching voice.

_We never said_  
_our love_  
_was evergreen,_  
_or as unchanging_  
_as the sea -_  
_but if_  
_you can still_  
_remember_  
_stop and think_  
_of me . . ._

_Think of all the things_  
_we've shared and seen -_  
_don't think about the things_  
_which might have been . . ._

_Think of me,_  
_think of me waking,_  
_silent and_  
_resigned._

_Imagine me,_  
_trying too hard_  
_to put you_  
_from my mind._

_Recall those days_  
_look back_  
_on all those times,_  
_think of the things_  
_we'll never do -_  
_there will_  
_never be_  
_a day, when_  
_I won't think_  
_of you . _

_We never said_  
_our love_  
_was evergreen,_  
_or as unchanging_  
_as the sea -_  
_but please_  
_promise me,_  
_that sometimes_  
_you will think_  
_of me!_

She finished with a big flourish and the crowed got immediately on their feet. She looked at her audience, smiling. Then her eyes went up to box five and she saw him there, half in shadow, but clapping all the same.

* * *

Madam Giry showed Christine to her new dressing room, a large place with a beautiful mirror running along its back wall. In the middle of the room, just lying on the floor was a single red rose with a black satin ribbon. Madam Giry grabbed it and handed it to her.

"You did well. He will be pleased."

Christine thanked her, taking the rose and Madam Giry left to deal with the dancers.

"Brava, Brava, Bravissima"

She smiled at the sound of the mocking voice, recognizing the dulcet undertones that emanated from everywhere and nowhere in the room.

"Christine. Christine!"

This time it was a female voice, young in its sound, but very familiar to Christine.

"Christine" her Angel repeated, chuckling as Meg entered the room.

_Where in the world_  
_have you been hiding?_  
_Really, you were_  
_perfect!_

_I only wish_  
_I knew your secret!_  
_Who is this new_  
_tutor? _

Christine looked at her blonde friend, thinking of a way to answer. She knew he would be listening to what she had to say.

Father once spoke  
of an angel . . .  
I used to dream he'd  
appear . . .

Now as I sing,  
I can sense him . . .  
And I know  
he's here . . .

Here in this room  
he calls me softly . . .  
somewhere inside . . .  
hiding . . .

Somehow I know  
he's always with me . . .  
he - the unseen  
genius . .

_Christine, you must have  
been dreaming . . .  
stories like this can't  
come true . . ._

_Christine, you're talking_  
_in riddles . . ._  
_and it's not_  
_like you . . ._

Angel of Music!  
Guide  
and guardian!  
Grant to me your  
glory!

_Who is this angel?_  
_This . . ._

Angel of Music!  
Hide no longer!  
Secret and strange  
angel . . .

Although she had known him for a while now, she also knew that more mystery lay behind his mask. Maybe now that she had performed so well he would think her worthy of his secrets.

All of a sudden Madam Giry broke into the room.

"Meg Giry. Are you a dancer? Then come and practice," she instructed her only daughter.

Meg left, taking one last look at Christine, who was staring oddly at the mirror.

"Little Lotte let her mind wander . . ."

The voice came from behind and although it sounded familiar, she could not place it. She turned to see a strange man standing in her doorway, holding flowers and smiling happily.

"I'm sorry monsieur, you must have the wrong room. I do not know a Little Lotte."

His face fell slightly upon realizing that his once childhood friend did not recognize him.

"It's me, Raoul. Remember?"

Again it all sounded vaguely familiar, but still, she could not place him."

"I'm sorry monsieur."

"You father played for my family. Sure it was long ago, but you must remember our picnics in the attic!"

And finally it came to her. Years ago, when her father still lived she had met Raoul. She must have been ten at the most and he just a little older. She smiled kindly at him.

"Raoul, I must apologize. Of course I remember, its just has been a while."

"Of course Little Lotte"

She grimaced slightly. She did not enjoy being called that, but decided it was not the time to tell him.

They both stood there awkwardly, until he realized he had brought her flowers. He handed them to her and she accepted them graciously.

"I was hoping you would join me for supper," he smiled excitedly at her.

"Raoul, I can't."

"I shan't keep you up late."

"I..I.." she stammered but was quickly interrupted.

"You must change. I must get my hat. Two minutes Little Lotte," he said as he opened the door to leave.

_Insolent boy!_  
_This slave_  
_of fashion_  
_basking in your_  
_glory!_

_Ignorant fool!_  
_This brave_  
_young suitor,_  
_sharing in my_  
_triumph!_

This time there was no hint of a smile in his words, no playful tone to his voice. It was pure and absolute anger. She turned around to look at the room, unsure of what to do, but glancing in the mysterious mirror.

Angel! I hear you!  
Speak -  
I listen . . .  
stay by my side,  
guide me!

Angel, my soul was weak -  
forgive me . . .  
enter at last,  
Master!

_Flattering child,  
you shall know me,  
see why in shadow  
I hide!_

_Look at your face_  
_in the mirror -_

She walked towards the mirror, never breaking eye contact with her reflection.

I_ am there  
inside!_

Angel of Music!  
Guide and guardian!  
Grant to me your  
glory!

Angel of Music!  
Hide no longer!  
Come to me, strange  
angel...

_I am your Angel ..._  
_Come to me: Angel of Music .._

The voice returned to its angered state, harsh, yet entrancing. Christine vaguely heard someone knocking at her now locked door. She stepped into the mirror, towards his promising, outstretched, hand.

* * *

**Please remember to leave a review! All comments are welcomed!**

******(')_'**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know it has been a while, so please don't hate me, i have been super busy what with school and working on some new things. If you like other musicals like les mis spring awakening wicked or tv shows like smash or glee, i have some stories, so feel free to check those out. Anyways, this is one of my favorite chapters so have fun!**

* * *

It was incredible. Just across the lake, hundreds upon hundreds of lights shown. Christine watched in awe as her Angel slowly rowed the boat forwards, nearing his home. The boat bumped into a rock and he got out, holding his hand out for her. She took hold of it and he led her into the cave.

_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation_

_Darkness stirs and wakes imagination_  
_Silently the senses abandon their defenses_  
_Helpless to resist the notes I write_  
_For I compose the music of the night_

_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor_  
_Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender_  
_Turn your face away from the garish light of day_  
_Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light_  
_And listen to the music of the night_

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams_  
_Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before_  
_Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar_  
_And you live as you've never lived before_

_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you_  
_hear it, feel it, secretly possess you_  
_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind_  
_In this darkness that you know you cannot fight_  
_The darkness of the music of the night_

_Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world_  
_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before_  
_Let your soul take you where you long to be_  
_Only then can you belong to me_

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication_  
_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation_  
_Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in_  
_To the power of the music that I write_  
_The power of the music of the night_

_You alone can make my song take flight_  
_Help me make the music of the night_

She felt her eyelids grow heavy and her body go limp. She vaguely remembered him carrying her onto a bed before sleep got the best of her.

* * *

Christine awoke with a small start. She looked around at the large room that was solely lighted by the fire in the fireplace. She tried to remember where she was and smiled when she did. She got up and felt the large cape that had been placed around her fall. Recognizing it, she wrapped it around herself before exiting the room.

She was back in the main entrance, which was still glowing with candle light. A large piano in the center took up most of the space, but the walls were filled with drawings. She was about to go look when she heard a small noise coming from behind her. She walked towards the door in the direction of the noise. As she reached she saw a small line of light coming through. She opened it slowly and silently, revealing a bed chamber similar to hers.

He lay there in the large bed, slightly tossing and turning, mumbling something. She walked forwards, crossing the bed and sitting on its left side. She expected him to wake up, but his restless sleep continued. He seemed to relax slightly, though and it gave her the opportunity to look at him. His mask was still on and the light gave him and even more ery look than usual. The covers were twisted about his body, but his hand stuck out, nearly touching her own. Impulsively she grabbed it and was surprised. The hand wrapped itself around her small fingers and his head turn towards her, all the while, he remained asleep.

"Christine."

It was barely a whisper but as the name touched his lips they turned into a smile.

She sat there for a few minutes, letting sleep come once more to her, but it didn't. It was cold, even with his large cloak wrapped around her. She tried to pull away, and go back to her own bed, but found she was unable to do so. The strong hand held its grip, forcing her to sit back down. She looked at the large sheets that covered the bed, their warmth inviting her in.

She reluctantly remove the covers on him, preparing to wrap them around herself, but was yet again surprised by him. His body was uncovered and though he seemed to be wearing pants, he was most definitely not wearing a shirt.

She gasped in surprise his uncovered torso revealed his strong muscles. She examined his slightly pale skin then slowly rested her body next to his, making sure not to wake him and grabbing the sheets with her free hand and covering them both.

* * *

He awoke so peacefully that he didn't even open his eyes. He just took a deep breath, feeling something tickle his nose and smelling a sweet, flowery smell.

He started taking notice of his body. He was turned onto his left side, his left arm wrapped around something. He felt something on top of his right hand, which was palm down on the bed. What ever was holding on to it wrapped itself around his hand and leaned against his chest.

He opened his eyes, letting in the firelight. He looked down to see who was in bed with him. Christine's slender figure was pressed up against him, her back to his chest. Her head rested on his left arm and her right hand slightly clasped his.

He smiled letting the warmth she brought him spread through him. He slowly untangled himself from her, taking great care not to wake her.

* * *

She awoke yet again, feeling just as disoriented as she had before. She looked around but found herself on an empty bed. She stood, having the feeling of slight de ja vu, and walking towards the door. She heard a small clatter coming from with in the cave and walked towards it.

She found him in what seemed to be a kitchen. He looked up at hearing her come in and she smiled at and he returned it. She sat at the small table and watch him prepare breakfast.

He was dressed in his usual dark pants and a lose white shirt. His mask safely in place

when he finished what he was doing he set a large plate of bread with marmalade in front of her.

"Eat, my Angel."

He sat opposite her, but grabbed no food for himself.

"Are you not hungry," she wondered between bites.

"No," he said, his eyes watching her intently.

She ate and he watched silently. When she finished she stood up and he did the same, both keeping the silence. She walked out of the kitchen and into the main room, towards the piano. She sat down on the bench and finally looked up at him. His gaze had never left her and he stood there, looking questioningly at her.

She looked at the hand written sheet music in front of her. Her hands landed softly on the keys, playing a few wrong notes of the intricate melody. He laughed at her attempt and walked towards her.

"Did you write this?"

"Of course"

She turned back to the music and made yet another attempt. He laughed again.

"You're playing it wrong. Here. "

He leaned over her and placed his hands on the keys. She lifted her own hands and placed them on top of his. He jumped drew back slightly at her touch, but started to play all the same.

She realized how utterly wrong she had been playing. The melody was not soft, but strong, with a discordant sound that matched the Phantom's temperament. The song ended and he walked away from her. She sat there for a few seconds, still taking the music in, then finally moved to him. He was watching one of the many candles as it flickered, the wax slowly melting, dripping down onto the ground.

"Angel," she whispered, softly reaching out to touch his shoulder. He turned to her and held her eyes in his dark grey ones. Her hand moved towards his cheek, gently touching it. He closed his eyes, leaning slightly into the much wanted touch. She watch him, felt him, relax into her hand as she stroked his stubbly left cheek. Then, without reason, on pure impulse, she grabbed the mask and ripped it off. It took him a second to realize what had just occurred and she remembered the day that had changed her life.

* * *

**I have the next chapter ready. Reviews give me energy to post, so review, review, REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**This idea is like one of my babies. It came to me randomly one day during class and I basically jumped out of my seat. I really hope you guys like it!**

* * *

_She jumped when a person on stilts walked by her, the pale make up making her cringe. It was Raoul's tenth birthday and this was his gift, a day at the carnival with his friend Christine. His parents had obliged and now he and Christine stood in the crowded field filled with clowns and masked men. Unlike Christine, Raoul felt rather comfortable, laughing at the midgets. They had been their for a few hours now and she had tried to get his parents to take her home, but he wished to stay, therefore they did._

_"One last thing before we go, alright Raoul?" his father finally asked._

_"I know what I want to see," the boy said enthusiastically, point at the main attraction titled The Boy from Hell._

_"Can we just go home, please?"_

_"Come a long Christine, you do not want to get lost," the Countess said, grabbing the young girl's arm and dragging it after the men._

_They entered a large tent, filled to the brim with screaming people. In the middle was a large box covered with a cloth so that its inside was not visible. Raoul grabbed Christine's hand a dragged her forward, towards the cage. As they made it to the cage a man appeared on a small platform off to the left._

_"Ladies and gentlemen are you prepared to see the most grotesque thing alive?"_

_The crowed cheered and screamed, Raoul's boyish voice among them._

_"Then lift the curtain and begin the show!"_

_The noise got louder as the sheet was lifted to reveal large steel bars. At first, Christine didn't see anything inside, but a small movement on the far edge of the cage caught her eye. It looked like a small boy. The announcer had by now made his way off the stage and inside the cage, grabbing the boy by the arm and lifting him off his feet, shoving him roughly forward towards the crowed._

_Now that the boy was in plain view she realized why he had looked so odd. His head was completely covered with a old potato sack. Only his eyes were visible through the poorly cut holes._

_The announcer suddenly took of the sack. The crowd went crazy, throwing peanuts and trash, but Christine felt her heart sink. The scared young boy had tried to get back the sack that covered his deformed face, but the man had just thrown it towards the crowed. He cowarded as food hit him._

_"Raoul, please stop," she said, trying to grab his arm before he threw some coins his parents had given him._

_He just laughed, "Calm down Christine, it's fine."_

_He pushed her off and threw a large gold coin, hitting the boy squarely in the face. The boy yelped, but she thought she saw him pick up the coin, then try to go back to his corner, but the man grabbed his hair and pulled him forwards yet again. _

_People finally seemed to get tired of simply watching the boy and slowly the room emptied._

_"One more thing, father? Please?" _

_"Fine Raoul, but then we go home, lets go Christine."_

_"Can I stay here?" she asked timidly, "I don't want to go anymore. I won't go anywhere."_

_Raoul's parents sighed in resign._

_"Fine just do not move. We shall be back in a little time."_

_She looked around at the empty, dirty tent. She made her way slowly towards the cage. The young boy hadn't seemed to notice her._

_"Are you alright?" she said quietly. _

_The boy jumped back, trying to hide his face._

_"It's fine. Here," she picked up the sack that had been left on the ground._

_He slowly looked up and made his way back to her. He was about to take his mask from her, but she pulled it away. He jumped and looked at her, surprised._

_"I'm sorry it's just,' she slowly reached out her hand through the bars, "may I?"_

_He looked doubtful for a moment, but then nodded. He kneeled down in front of her and leaned forward. Her hand met his rough skin, which was warmer then she had expected. His eyes closed and she felt as he pushed on her hand before pulling away. They looked at each other for a moment._

_"Can I?" he asked softly, pointing at the sack. She handed it to him and he put it back on, covering his face. _

_"Thank you", his voice was strange, he sounded much older than he looked. The deepness of it resonated in his throat._

_"You're welcome, Monsieur."_

_This statement made him laugh and she smiled at the sound._

_"What is so funny?" she asked._

_"No one has ever called me Monsieur."_

_There was a moment of silence before she spoke again._

_" I am sorry for my friend, I told him to stop,but..."_

_"It's fine," he interrupted, "every one does it. Why didn't you?"_

_She thought for a moment, "I do not know."_

_He looked at her, his head tilting slightly, then he pulled out something from his pocket._

_"Here," he dropped something on to her open hand._

_"This is the coin Raoul through at you," he kept quiet, so she continued, "I can't take this. It's yours," she tried to hand it back, but he rejected it._

_"It doesn't matter. If you don't take it, Rick will take it."_

_"Who?"_

_"The announcer," as he said this loud steps came from far way, "speak of the devil. Go, take it."_

_She looked at him, wanting to say something, but the footsteps came closer and the man saw her._

_"Who's there!?" he drunkenly yelled._

_"What's your name?"_

_"Erik," he said hurriedly, "now go!"_

_"Thank you Erik. I'll keep this forever," she was about to exit, but stopped and looked back._

_The man, Ricky, was in the cage again and he had a large stick with him. He drew back and struck the Erik, who fell down to the ground._

_"Christine, there you are. Father says it's time to go."_

_She nodded silently and followed Raoul out, pocketing the large gold coin._

* * *

Christine looked at his face for a moment, shock appearing on it, then anger.

_...Damn you_  
_You little prying Pandora_  
_You little demon_  
_Is this what you wanted to see?_  
_Curse you, you little lying Delilah_  
_You little viper_  
_Now you cannot ever be free_  
_Damn you, curse you..._

_Stranger than you dreamt it_  
_Can you even dare to look, or bear to think of me_  
_This loathesome gargoyle_  
_Who burns in hell, But secretly yearns for heaven_  
_Secretly, secretly..._  
_Oh Christine..._

_Fear can turn to love_  
_You'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster_  
_This repulsive carcass_  
_Who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty,_  
_Secretly, secretly..._  
_Oh, Christine..._

His anger had taken her by surprise, but his sadness had hurt her. He lay on the ground now, his face buried shamefully in his hands. She approached him slowly, mask in one hand, and the token she had never forgotten in the other.

"Erik."

He looked up, surprised at the sound of his own name.

"How do you..."

She showed him the golden coin he himself had given her long ago.

"It's you."

* * *

**Sooooo? What do you guys think!? Review please!**


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